


the magic between you and i

by softsocky



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: #SockyOwnsMyAss, Band Fic, Cuties, M/M, because im a sucker for those, but then i thought.....katie....control yourself, i was going to make this a full-blown hs au, ps. i should be writing the thing about moon bin but guess what???? im not, this is so shit im not even sorry anymore, you have done so many of those
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 13:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12912900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softsocky/pseuds/softsocky
Summary: Rocky didn’t share food. Minhyuk did, but only with Sanha.





	the magic between you and i

**Author's Note:**

> Story title from Eric Carmen's '[Hungry Eyes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ssCL292DQA)' aka 'not the most [popular song from dirty dancing ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WpmILPAcRQo)but like maybe the second popular'.

Everyone called him Rocky. They would say he was made from hard edges and straight lines and a motionless heart with a stone-cold centre. They would say that he didn’t care much for others, so long as they didn’t get in his way. They would say that he was cocky and rude and overconfident, and he never denied those accusations either, because maybe they were true, and maybe they weren’t, but Rocky wasn’t much a talker anyways. All of those things changed, though, when he was with Sanha.

The boy was younger than he was, just by one year, and he was loud and irritating and so perfectly contrasting to Rocky that it didn’t make sense at first for them to be friends. Rocky was well in to his career with Fantagio when Sanha had joined. He knew Bin already, and had met MJ in passing at this point, and Jin Jin was somewhat of a mentor to him with his rapping. Sanha and Eunwoo joined around the same time, with Bin drooling and stumbling after Eunwoo once the nerves finally wore off, and Rocky almost doing the same (Rocky was better at controlling himself, though Sanha did make it a challenge). Sanha and Rocky became close fairly quickly, after Rocky blindly stumbled into one of the free studios to practice one of his routines, only to find the younger boy strumming away on his guitar already.

Rocky had made his way inside the studio, noting that it was odd one of the lights was already on – he always made sure he turned the lights off after he left, but perhaps someone else had been in after him. But then he saw _him._ The angel-like boy with dark, unkempt hair falling around his face, with wide eyes. Those same eyes which now stared at him from across the studio with humiliation and surprise, and Rocky was sure he looked the same. He had a stool pulled up and was leaning back against the mirror, and when their eyes met, Rocky thought he felt time stand still.

Because Rocky was made from hard edges and straight lines and a motionless heart with a stone-cold centre, but one look from Sanha, and Rocky became _Minhyuk._

 

Minhyuk’s heart would always beat so fast he was sure Sanha could hear it as they walked to classes together, ate together, or practiced together. His palms would sweat just from one look at the boy, and if Sanha looked at him back, he was so sure that some days, he would truly suffocate and never resurface.

Guiding the younger boy had become his thing ever since they debuted. Sure, their hyungs were protective – as they ought to be – but there was something about Minhyuk’s behaviour that would make people stop and stare.

Rocky was not gentle, and people knew Rocky – but Minhyuk wasn’t Rocky. Sanha never called him that; didn’t know him as that. For all intents and purposes, Minhyuk had always been Minhyuk, and that meant looking out for the maknae as well and as often as he could.

From well before their debut days – when their budding acquaintance bloomed into one of the greatest friendships Rocky, _Minhyuk_ , had ever known – Rocky had loved to cook. He loved to cook Korean cuisine, but also loved to branch out with foreign delicacies. His Mum taught him to cook, and from his Grandfather he learnt to bake, and with those two skills combined, he quickly became a favourite in the kitchen in the _Astro_ dorm.

Something that the boys learnt very quickly, though, was that Rocky didn’t share food.

It was something they all noticed during the first month. Eunwoo, Bin, Jin Jin and MJ had all filed in through the door around five pm, coming from a last-minute practice that Minhyuk had skipped out on. Having been fully involved in the choreography of their dances, Minhyuk needed less practice landing the moves than the others, which often worked in his favour.

Bin came up to the stove, where Minhyuk was making a risotto he’d seen online, and sniffed obnoxiously. “Wow, _Rocky,_ this smells good.” He said nothing, just added zucchini to the top of the dish before placing the lid back on. At Bin’s words, the other three stumbled up behind him, sniffing just as loudly.

“Rock, I didn’t know you could cook?” It was Eunwoo, and his words fanned hot air down the back of his neck. He squirmed a little, both from the feeling, and the slight embarrassment that flickered behind his skin.

He shrugged, “I know the basics.”

MJ snorted, leaning into Eunwoo’s side. “Pumpkin and seafood risotto isn’t the basics.”

The boys chuckled, but Minhyuk just felt hot all over. He got embarrassed easily, and while he’d received thousands of compliments as Rocky, Minhyuk rarely got compliments, especially something as important to him as _cooking_ was, so he found it difficult to stomach. He decided to change the subject.

“Where’s Sanha?” The dorm was always noticeably quieter and more subdued without the pesky blonde inside of it.

MJ shrugged, “he’s with his parents. Said he’d be back in a few.”

Minhyuk felt four bodies pressed around him, watching him cooking. He tried his best to ignore the feeling of it, the added heat to his back, the increase in pressure. He felt the pressure lessen, though, for a just moment, when Bin left his side and opened the fridge. There was another moment that followed that same one, this one filled with silence from the boys and from the hum and whir over the exhaust fan above him.

“ _Park Minhyuk._ ” Minhyuk knew he’d found it then, the tone in his voice made it obvious. “Did you bake _muffins_?”

His cheeks were well and truly red by now, bordering on beetroot purple, even. He lifted the lid of the risotto and checked it again, though he knew it was pointless at this stage. He heard a car horn blast downstairs in the parking lot, and he hoped that was Sanha’s parents dropping him back.

“You’re only telling us _now_ that you can cook _and_ bake?”

“To be fair, I didn’t tell you anything.”

None of them replied, but suddenly there were hands reaching around him and there was a stack of plates off to the side of the stove. Minhyuk snorted, pushing the stack of plates away from him. “No way, boys. Make your own.” He’d maybe give them a muffin later, if they didn’t annoy him too much, but he’d made them for school in mind so he wanted to save some of them.

Eunwoo groaned in unison with Bin, and Jin Jin opened his mouth to speak just as the front door opened with its typical hiss. Minhyuk breathed a sigh of relief. _Sanha._

“Something smells damn _good,_ ” his voice came, sounding through from the entranceway and in to the kitchen. He appeared in the doorway, all long limbs and cute smile and warm eyes, and Minhyuk found himself distracted long enough for MJ to plate up some risotto for himself.

Sanha raised an eyebrow at him, and Minhyuk didn’t have to turn around to know what was happening then. He snatched at the wrist reaching for the spoon, and with his other hand, grabbed the plate from their thieving, greedy hands. MJ whined, “ _But Rocky,_ I’m _hungry_!”

He ignored the whine from the petulant child, took the plate and grabbed a set of utensils from the draw and napkin from the bench, before handing the plate to Sanha wordlessly.

Sanha took it with eager eyes, and held the plate in both hands as though it were the most precious thing in the world.

“You’ll give _Sanha_ some, but not _us?”_

it was MJ again, but he shut him out, watching Sanha take a mouthful of the risotto. The boy groaned around the spoon, his eyes closed, before smiling wide at Minhyuk. “So _good.”_

It was Bin’s turn to whine next, it seemed, “what kind of favouritism is _this?_ ”

Minhyuk said nothing, just continued smiling at Sanha, who smiled right back. “Thank-you _Minhyuk_ ,” before he turned to sit at the table.

The boys grumbled and groaned for the rest of the night, but he shut them up with the chocolate muffins. He gave Sanha two muffins though, and gave him extra whipped cream, but the boys didn’t need to know that.

 

It was the first week of school, and with Minhyuk and Sanha the only one’s still in attendance, the dorm was relatively quiet most mornings during the week. Minhyuk was always up first. There was an unspoken routine in place between the two youngest members. Minhyuk wasn’t a morning person by any means, but he was better at getting out of bed than Sanha was – so he would always drag himself out of comfort at the sound of the first alarm, and patter into the kitchen. He’d boil the kettle and get two cups of coffee made, drinking his down in one go, before placing the other on the table beside Sanha’s bed. The boy was awake, though he was caught on the edges of sleep again, tempting him, trying to drag him back in.

Minhyuk would make Sanha’s coffee extra hot and extra strong, so the smell would waft and linger, would wake the boy up quicker than shove could. Once the mug is placed on the coaster, Minhyuk would run a finger along the boy’s hairline, tap once or twice on his temple, before whispering a _good morning, Yoon Sanha_ into his ear. The boy in question would grumble and stretch, almost hitting Minhyuk in the face, before his eyes fluttered open cutely. He’d smile up at the older boy, enough to make Minhyuk’s tummy flutter, before grasping at the mug of hot coffee.

“I’m going to make some breakfast, then jump in the shower. You can lie here for a little longer,” he moved to stand from where he had sat on Sanha’s bedside. “I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

He always used the word _call_ loosely. He’d never yell out to the boy, knowing he was still in the slow process of waking up, still trying to get his head around _existing._ Minhyuk quickly heated up some breakfast muffin’s he’d made the night before under the grill, adding butter and cheese, before frying some eggs, too. He plated them up, making sure to add a generous amount of sauce, which he knew Sanha would pout and whine about if he _didn’t_. He took the plate of food to Sanha’s room, where the boy was propped up on the pillow, eyes open, but staring at nothing in particular on the wall. His eyes were devoid of any emotion, and his hand look dangerously close to dropping the hot coffee on his lap.

Minhyuk grabbed the mug, startling Sanha enough for him to spill a small drop, before he saw the plate in Minhyuk’s other hand. The once-empty eyes filled with a spark of life, and his body rebooted, kick-started, and reached out with grabby hands.

Just as Minhyuk handed Sanha the plate, the upper bunk shifted. Minhyuk shook his head at the younger boy across from him. “You better have a plate of food ready for me too, Mr Park.” Jin Jin’s voice was thick and heavy from sleep, a sort of mix between sluggish and languid, and almost too muffled for him to fully understand.

Sanha giggled around his mouthful, knowing full well that Minhyuk would do no such thing. Minhyuk’s food was his, and sometimes Sanha’s, too. Sanha was appreciative, so much so that every morning, in his sleepy state, he’d lean over and kiss his cheek, before whispering to him, “ _thank-you, Minhyuk_.”

 

It became an unspoken rule, of sorts, that Minhyuk organised lunch for school. Sanha hadn’t really expected or demanded it, it was just that mornings were tough enough as it was for him, so organising food sat on the bottom of his priority list. The first time he forgot lunch, Minhyuk halved his own lunch with him. It continued during the week, with more and more food appearing in Minhyuk’s lunch bag so the younger boy would never go hungry. Then, after a while, Sanha realised he needn’t worry about food anymore – Minhyuk was always there for him, whipping him up meals and decadent lunches that were unmatched by any canteen menu.

That’s where people at school got confused, too. See, though they ate lunch together, they were in different years at school. They saw each other in the hallways and before and after school, but during class they were never together. So maybe Minhyuk did come across as all those things – as cold hearted and rough and _rude_ , but it was only because his life-source wasn’t with him, and when that happened, Minhyuk felt physically drained of energy.

But then, when lunch rolled around, Minhyuk would find Sanha waiting for him at his locker, long and lean body slouched against the row of metal. His eyes would always spot the blonde boy first, the younger always clueless and staring into space, probably thinking about food or their performances or the dance move he has to practice when he gets to the studio later.

Minhyuk didn’t think about any of that, though. All he thought about was how plump and pink Sanha’s lips looked, and how much better they’d look pressed against his. How much better Sanha would look wearing Minhyuk’s personalised overcoat now that the weather had turned bad outside, so everyone would see that Sanha was his. How much better they’d be if inside of greeting him with a playful shove and smirk, he greeted him with a hug and a kiss and a _I love you so much_. But alas, a playful shove and smirk would have to do for now, would have to be the thing that satisfies his cravings.

 

But his cravings could never be satisfied when _Rocky_ was transformed into gooey _Minhyuk_ at the sight of Sanha. Sanha never once referred to him as Rocky, unless it was Astro-based and he _had_ too. When those moments happened, it felt weird to hear, and Minhyuk wondered if it felt weird for Sanha to _say._ The boys all called him Rocky, and he truly didn’t mind, but things were different with Sanha, _closer_ , he thinks, and for him to not use Minhyuk wherever he could feel awkward and out of place and _not close enough._ But maybe that’s the greediness and selfishness of Rocky coming through, or maybe it’s the neediness of Minhyuk. He wasn’t sure what it was, or who it was from, but either way, he was driving himself crazy.

Especially now. Right _now_ , they were getting ready for rehearsal at the studio. The rest of the boys were already there, having gone earlier, before Minhyuk and Sanha had finished their classes. The later was currently showering, and Minhyuk was preparing his snack bags for practice when he later emerged in a cloud of steam.

His hair was wet and shaggy and _adorable_ and Minhyuk would cry if he wasn’t gnawing on a piece of toffee. At the sight of the sugary treat, Sanha squealed.

“ _You made them!”_

It had been Sanha who requested the toffee, said it was his favourite, but Minhyuk knew that was actually a lie – chocolate muffins were, closely followed by meringue, and then maybe toffee. But still, he made it, because the boy had begged him too.

Minhyuk rolled his eyes, pushed the container of still-warm toffee to the boy, who took one eagerly. He’d already shoved it into his mouth by the time Minhyuk realised what he was doing. It was like he had no control. He’d been supressing this craving for as long as he can remember, the sugary sweet boy in front of him so untouchable and out of his reach, that now he was right _here_ , different and yet the very same, he couldn't stop himself. Minhyuk couldn’t place what had changed, _what_ _was_ _different_ – what made him lean forward hurriedly, hold Sanha’s head in both hands, and press their lips together as though he needed the contact to live.

And _Christ,_ maybe he _did_. Maybe this whole time he hadn’t even been breathing, and this kiss, this _love,_ was him finally inhaling. It felt surreal, unlike anything he’d ever experienced, and it tasted strongly like toffee and something else, something he couldn’t quite place, something so undeniably Sanha that it made his head swirl. His hands were curling in the strands at the base of Sanha’s neck, and his lips were persistent and dominating and despite the younger boy’s height, Minhyuk was somehow in control. His toes were beginning to hurt at being on their tips, but he didn’t care – all he cared about was the way Sanha’s rigid body seemed to thaw beneath his hands, his lips, and how hands were suddenly on his waist, drawing him impossibly closer.

He wasn’t sure what did it. He didn’t know if it was the way Sanha shoved him backwards, up against the kitchen counter; or if maybe it was the way Sanha was able to overthrow him, take control, and send Minhyuk into a rush of feelings he’d never experienced before; or perhaps it was the whine Minhyuk couldn’t help but release when Sanha bit his bottom lip. Whatever it had been, it made Minhyuk yank his lips away from the boy, and drop down off his toes. Sanha looked confused at first – eyes opening wide and alert, lips puffy and red – and Minhyuk just wanted to kiss him again, kiss it all away, but he was panicking and he’d just kissed his best friend, for Christ’s sake. Sanha didn’t seem to mind though, because next thing, his lips were at his neck – not biting, that was too obvious, the boys would ask about it and neither boy knew what this _was_ , neither wanting it admit what they wanted it to be. So Minhyuk just let Sanha sink into him, kiss along his neck, before drawing him back in all over again. Somewhere in the middle, or maybe it was still the start, or even the end, he wasn’t really sure – didn’t _care –_ Sanha pulled away and breathed out, panting and chest heaving against him, “thank-you, Minhyuk.” Afterwards, his lips were back on his, and time stopped all over again.

 

Minhyuk didn’t know what this all _was_ – but it was sweet and sour and tender and spicy, and he _loved_ it. _He didn’t know what it was_ , but it was satisfying, and he was terrified that when, _if_ , this ended, he wouldn’t be able to find anything that tasted just as good. Their _whatever this was_ carried on for a few weeks. Their routines changed and moulded to this new lifestyle of secrecy that they kept hidden from the others. Sanha would get out of bed at the same time as him now, before school, so he could kiss him against the fridge. These kisses always tasted like coffee and a bit like morning breath, too, but neither boy minded, far too busy drowning their senses in the other.

The only thing different at school was now Minhyuk seemed even softer; so much so, that even he had begun to notice it. Sanha had, too, but barely mentioned it, merely just rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around the shorter boy as they walked the halls. There were never any kisses shared at school; it was too risky. But as they walked home, though, there were grabby hands and frantic kisses against fences and somewhat inappropriate touching, and when that all happened, Minhyuk had to fight every cell in his body to push Sanha away from him before all this turned into something much more serious and unexplainable.

They still hadn’t talked about what all this was, and frankly, Minhyuk didn’t want _to_ , because that meant there was a chance it could all end. Instead, he remained quiet about it all, took the kisses that Sanha would allow him, and Sanha would just take right back. He’d make the younger boy dinner each night, sometimes new and creative ideas, sometimes classics he knew Sanha loved. And, each night, the rest of the band would whinge and complain about his favouritism and how unfair it was. Maybe it was, but Minhyuk’s heart didn’t care – and when Sanha smiled at him like _that_ from underneath his lashes, coy and knowing, tilting his neck the tiniest bit to the side so that he could see the edges of the purpling mark he’d put there earlier, he knew his brain didn’t care either.

And each time, each and every time, Sanha would tell him _thank you, Minhyuk,_ reminding him that this was him, not that Rocky character everyone thought he was, wanted him to be. He was Park Minhyuk, gentle and soft and so terribly in love with Sanha he was beginning to get cavities.

 

The secrecy all changed though, one night at practice. The had just finished another rehearsal to _Crazy, Sexy, Cool,_ their upcoming single, and Minhyuk sank down beside his bag. He reached in to get his water and a towel, wiping the sweat away from his face. Before practice, Minhyuk and Sanha were in the middle of their usual routine – kissing against the kitchen bench – when Minhyuk’s thoughts travelled to how bloody much he loved kissing this boy, but how much he loved the boy _more_ than the kissing. The kissing was a fantastic bonus to whatever this was, but Minhyuk wanted to make it official – he wanted to hold his hand and kiss him in public and call him beautiful without judgement. He wanted to mark Sanha up in places that were visible, so people knew that he was _taken_ and couldn’t be flirted with anymore. Minhyuk felt like he was losing his _mind_ all over again, and with each brush of Sanha’s lips against his, he felt as though he was being dragged closer and closer to the brink of insanity.  

He thought of this again now, with Sanha flopping down beside him, sweat and panting. He stole Minhyuk’s water from him, and he’d probably make some comment about an indirect kiss later, but right now, Minhyuk was too distracted by the younger’s bobbing Adam’s aple and thin fingers to speak.

Bin snorted from across the studio. “Thirsty, Rocky, are we?”

Minhyuk blushed, turning away. He felt Sanha’s eyes on him, knew he was biting his lip, wanting to ask but still not knowing how. Minhyuk knew what he wanted – he wanted a kiss. That was the face he always made when he wanted to kiss him and hold him and be held right back. But they couldn’t do it here. Not here, with the boys all around, in a room surrounded by mirrors, sweaty and gross from dancing.

So, Minhyuk got him the next best thing. He pulled out a Tupperware container of chocolate muffins – a new and improved recipe, if Minhyuk does say so himself – and Sanha dug into them so fast that the boys didn’t even get a chance of asking for some, too.

Minhyuk just watched him affectionately, smirking at the animated way he ate – eyes opening and closing, moaning and groaning exaggeratedly, kissing his fingers and making a _pop_ with his lips. He was teasing him, he was sure of it, and Minhyuk wouldn’t have minded had it not been for how desperately he wanted to be swallowed up by Sanha’s arms, rest his head against his chest and just listen to him _live._

He heard a snort from behind him, sounding suspiciously like MJ, and went to turn and scold him when something soft and supple pressed to his lips. He knew those lips anywhere, could pinpoint that taste anywhere he went. And it was instinct – pure _instinct_ – for him to kiss back. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t control it, just pressed one hand to the floor, propping him up as he leant over the younger boy, and tangled the other in his hair. He didn’t care that there was wolf-whistling from all around; he didn’t care that Bin was muttering out a _what the actual FUCK;_ or that Eunwoo seemed to be hyperventilating. Rocky may be cold and rude and whatever else they call him, but with Sanha in his arms like this, with Sanha in his mind like _this_ , _Rocky_ no longer existed – just like magic, he was all Minhyuk now.

All he cared about was the smile Sanha was pressing against his lips, the _thank you, Minhyuk_ he whispered between kisses, and the way the churning in his stomach and the buzzing in his head fizzled and then _popped_ , before dissipating into nothing more than _soft edges_ and _curved lines_ and a heart beating so fast that the centre caught flame.

**Author's Note:**

> come cry to me about socky over at my tumblr! hmu at [softsocky](http://softsocky.tumblr.com/)


End file.
